


Nightly Visit

by Dreamy_Darling



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Qrow Branwen, Depressed Qrow Branwen, Drunk Qrow Branwen, I'm so tired these tags are probably gonna be awful, Love Confessions, Lovey-Dovey, M/M, Pancakes eventually, Qrow Branwen Needs a Hug, Qrow gets all the love and hugs he deserves, Sex, Top Clover Ebi, but i digress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamy_Darling/pseuds/Dreamy_Darling
Summary: Ruby is frightened that her uncle may have relapsed, so Clover does his best to help while dealing with his own feelings towards Qrow.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 26
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

Qrow’s legs. His skin. His scent. Everything he had, Clover needed it. All of it.

A gentle darkness surrounded them both, fluid and suffocating like ink, consuming their bodies, their breaths. But there was one saving grace, a single beam of light flooding in from the crack in the bedroom door. It illuminated the curves of Qrow’s body, his abs and thighs and jaw, so perfectly. Clover’s eyes followed the outline of Qrow’s body, and he basked in the weight pressing down on his lap, the slick warmth of his sweat dripping from his skin.

Clover couldn’t stop himself as he gripped Qrow’s bony hips like his life depended on it. He was intent on mapping out each and every inch of his lover’s gorgeous body. And as he lifted his hands upward, Qrow rolled his body in Clover’s lap in a way that made Clover buck upward into him with such an edge of desperation.

He never spoke a word, all Clover could hear was his breathing, sucking in between white teeth and then out again, speeding up in time with their aching bodies. Clover’s hands drifted up further and further until he was cupping at Qrow’s chest, grasping at tightly strung muscles. He could almost hear his lover’s raspy laugh; was he laughing at him? At how desperate he was? Clover couldn’t bring himself to care. He just needed Qrow to stay put on his lap, movements so powerful and yet so languid. They had all the time in the world, or so Clover hoped. Prayed. He needed more than this. He needed more of Qrow. He was throbbing, panting. He _needed_ Qrow.

What Clover didn’t need was for his alarm to go off.

He nearly bolted upright as he awoke, his body drenched and his cock achingly hard. He groaned miserably as he lifted himself and looked over at his scroll. He must have only gone to bed a few hours ago.

It wasn’t his alarm; it was one of the newbies calling. Qrow’s little niece.

He set himself into a more authoritative position as he answered; he’d told the kids to only contact his team if there was an emergency (they were good kids, he’d thought, but they also had to be professional).

“Hey Ruby,” he answered, trying to keep the sleep from his voice. That dream… not now. He could at least wait until he’d hung up.

“Uh, hey… um,” she sounded… embarrassed? No, worried. “Sorry to wake you up, but… Have you seen my uncle Qrow? Is he with you?”

_I wish_. “No, is everything okay?”

“Well it’s… no, it’s not.” She sighed. “He’s been out since last night and I’ve asked around and… well, nobody’s seen him.”

“Was he on a mission?” He frowned, pulling at the first few buttons of his shirt one-handed.

“No um… uh, hold on.” Then came a few moments of mumbling, and the scroll was passed over to the older one, Yang.

“Hey. Look, Uncle Qrow’s got a bit of a… problem.” She sighed.

Clover nodded to himself, looking out the window. It was late… and he’d been out since _last_ night? In the cold of Mantle? He’d picked up on the worrying traits from the get-go, but had never said anything since he found out Qrow had been trying to quit. Maybe it was a relapse…

“I think I get the picture. I’ll head out and look for him.”

“Thank you, Clover.”

“…By the way,” he said before he hung up, a bit of a smile on his face, “why did you call me, specifically?”

“Uhh, well…” he was still smiling as Yang tried to form a response, “you’re the… team leader? Seemed most responsible?”

“Sure. I’ll call you or Ruby when I find him.” He chuckled as they said their goodbyes.

But as he thought of the gravity of the situation, his smile left him, and he shook his head. From what Clover could gather during the weeks they’d all gotten to know each other, he thought Qrow was doing alright. There was a lot about recovery and addiction he didn’t understand – a weak point, considering how often he frequented Mantle of all places – but he knew this was a step back.

Once he was ready, he stepped out into the cold. The warmth of his home had done nothing to help him expect just how freezing it was. There was ice under his feet, and snow seeped into every crack in every stone step. He kept the handle of Kingfisher tucked within reach under his jacket, and as moments grew to minutes, and minutes grew to hours, so too did his worry.

Where was he? There were only so many bars and clubs and liquor stores in Mantle… right?

Qrow had been doing well. He really had. Clover shook his head as he marched down the streets; the guy deserved a break, for crying out loud. He had already done so much for those kids, so much for Remnant as a whole, and so much for the mission at hand. The one their world hinged on.

_Misfortune. Why Misfortune? He doesn’t deserve that._ When Clover looked at him, he could almost see the weight of a Semblance like that on Qrow’s back, digging into him, anchoring him in depths that maybe he couldn’t see a way out of. It was all well and good to say, ‘just train until you can control your Semblance’, but it wasn’t like that for everyone. Clover couldn’t exactly control his, after all, but he’d never needed to. It had never been a threat to him or anyone he cared about. Clover could understand in a way why Qrow seemed so set on drinking himself into an early grave.

He wanted to trade places with him, trade Semblances, if such a thing was even possible. Or just send as much good luck as he could to Qrow. Gods knew he’d earned that, at least. But Clover knew wishing and hoping that someone’s life would suddenly get better wasn’t practical, not without action.

So, as Clover got to know Qrow more, and as he in turn opened himself up to the huntsman, he decided he’d at least try to give Qrow a different form of happiness, something he could look forward to.

Companionship.

Someone to depend on. Someone to confide in. Someone to make him laugh. And hey, if a bit of Clover’s Semblance rubbed off on him, all the better.

He hadn’t realised when he’d began to yearn for more than that. He just noticed that the more he got to know Qrow, his unique quirks and humour, the more he noticed that being friends just wasn’t cutting it. He had to be professional, he told himself. He had to follow orders. The General had told him to stay with the group, to keep an eye on them all. Not to try and slip into Qrow’s pants.

Then again, he hadn’t said _not_ to, either.

And then he started having dreams. Gods, the dreams. He hadn’t had wet dreams so intense since he was in his teens. The first time he dreamed of Qrow he woke up and found his hand already down the front of his boxers.

He’d desperately tried going back to sleep that night.

He almost smiled to himself as he remembered the dread of getting up to breakfast after. The way Qrow raised an eyebrow at how awkward he’d been, but said nothing. And by the Brothers, the _flirting_. There was something, he was sure about it. He had a _lucky_ feeling. The more they got comfortable around each other, the more Qrow smirked at him. The more they shared jokes and bumped shoulders, the more Qrow started calling him pet names in that raspy, sarcastic tone of his.

It made him shiver.

He knew the kids had noticed their “banter”. Probably encouraged it even, by leaving the pair of them to it so often. That’s why they called him to help tonight, above anyone else. Or he liked to think so, anyway.

Clover hoped Qrow got something back from him. He wondered if he enjoyed the casual flirting when it was back at him. He wondered if Qrow had dreams that made him wake in a sweat, hands already between his legs.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Or in this case, think of the devil having wet dreams about you, and he shall come staggering around a corner and fall straight into you.

Clover was ready to form a defensive stance before he realised who it was. The smell hit him before the sight. Had Qrow been drinking the entire time he was gone? Or had he tried to find something else to do to let off steam?

“Hey! Watch where you’re – oh, lucky charm!” Qrow seemed to lighten up as soon as his eyes actually settled on Clover. “What’re you doin’ out so late?!”

“Looking for you, actually.” He tried not to look disappointed. Qrow looked a state. Messy. And not the usual messy that Clover had grown to look forward to seeing. He gripped a bottle in his hand, a big one. It was nearly empty.

Qrow rolled his eyes, more dramatically than he usually would have. In fact, his whole head seemed to roll with them, and he staggered back. Had Clover not put a tight hold around his wrist, Qrow would have fallen. “Oh what, you gonna cart me home? The night’s still young, soldier boy!”

Clover caught his frown before it formed and glanced around, finding a vacant bench. “Come on, let’s sit down for a bit.”

“Naaaah, I’m fine!” He tried pulling his arm out of Clover’s grip. It didn’t work. “Get off!”

“Come on, Qrow.” He held firm, but kept his voice light, friendly. As best as he could manage anyway.

“I said I’m fine already!”

“You’re drunk.”

“You don’t fucking say!”

Clover sighed and tugged at Qrow’s arm, a bit too hard. Whether it was Clover’s luck or Qrow’s misfortune, he couldn’t say, but the tug made Qrow slip forward into Clover’s arms, the ice at his feet offering little support. Clover could only smile as Qrow growled up at him, a flush of colour in his pale face. If anything, it was likely the booze, but Clover liked to imagine otherwise.

“Come on.” He said for the third and hopefully final time, more than happy to let Qrow lean into him as much as he was. Were it not for the smell of cheap whisky (or possibly gasoline) following Qrow like an Aura of its own, Clover would have been happy to walk until sunrise.

Qrow grumbled. “Yeah, yeah. I’m drunk. Let’s take drunk Uncle Qrow back home because he can’t look after himself.” Clover glanced down at him, to find Qrow glaring straight back. “Why don’t you just throw me up onto your high horse and we can gallop all the way home?!”

“Qrow.” He said sternly, which did seem to shut him up for the time being. He hung his head and stared down listlessly until Clover helped him onto the bench. He slumped against the frozen metal, and covered his face with one hand while the bottle nearly slipped from his other. Shame seemed to radiate from him, and all Clover wanted to do was to take it away.

He took his scroll out and glanced back at Qrow, before sending a quick text to Yang (she seemed less likely to freak out, but only by a margin).

**Found him. Dw. I’ll take him back to mine. He’s ok.**

He couldn’t take him straight to them. Not when he was like this. As he was about to turn to Qrow, his scroll buzzed. A response from Yang that he had to smile at.

**thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou**

“Who’s that? Your girlfriend?” Qrow’s voice came from the gaps in his fingers.

“No, no, definitely not.” He chuckled.

Qrow didn’t laugh back. He barely moved. “You should go home, Clover,” he slurred, “I’ll be alright.”

“I’m not leaving you here. Not drunk, in freezing weather. Have you even eaten?”

Qrow tilted his head at Clover, still looking mildly pissed. “Why do you care?”

“Qrow, of course I care about if you’re okay or not.” He turned to him. It hurt him a bit to see Qrow so flippant, even if he was drunk. “You’re not a lone wolf, Qrow. You have people who care about you -!”

“I get it! Alright?!” He jumped back to his feet, his eyes bloodshot. “I let everybody down! _Again_!”

Clover sighed. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to! It’s what I do best, after all!” He waved his arms around, grabbing a lamp post by them so he wouldn’t slip on the ice. “Spreading my bad luck to everyone else like a fucking disease! That’s what it is!”

Clover was taken aback, his expression softening as he looked up at Qrow. “I didn’t...”

“You didn’t know, huh?” He drawled, “course you didn’t. You got all the luck in the damn world! Now why don’t you just rub your lucky charms sore, and leave me the fuck alone?!” But the outburst drained from him as quickly as it came, and once again shame dawned over his ragged features. Qrow turned away and leaned against the lamp post, unable to face Clover. “I didn’t... I’m sorry, I...”

Clover got up and hugged him from behind. Qrow blinked, tensing like he was expecting something a lot worse. But Clover just held him close, and stayed quiet. Qrow was freezing, snow set into his thin layers, but he probably couldn’t feel it anymore. The joys of alcohol; with enough of it you could stop feeling anything at all.

But thankfully Qrow hadn’t gotten there just yet. He could feel Clover’s warmth against his back, his strong body, his short hair brushing against the side of his head. Once again, Qrow leaned into Clover, enjoying the affection. But it was a joy he shouldn’t be given. People like him didn’t get privileges like that.

“I don’t deserve this.” He said softly.

Clover sighed. His breath was warm. _I know you don’t,_ he thought, _you don’t deserve to have bad luck follow you everywhere you go. You don’t deserve to have to drown yourself every night like this._

“I don’t deserve you.”

Clover blinked, and he pulled away to give Qrow a confused look. Qrow just looked back sadly.

“Don’t you have someone waiting for you at your place?” He stared into Clover, eyes that were usually like fire now simmered down to weak embers. He looked tired. “Someone who actually deserves you?”

“Qrow, I.. What are you saying?” He spoke softly, carefully.

“You know what I mean.” He wished the slur would leave his words. “Look at me, Cloves. I’m a fucking mess. You need to find someone better than me. Someone who isn’t a fucking waste...”

“Stop talking like that.” Clover urged, grabbing Qrow by the shoulders. He wanted to shake the negativity out of him; he was tempted to try it.

“Look at me!”

“I am.” Clover’s hands moved up, fingers tracing over Qrow’s neck for a moment before settling at the back of his head, fingers embedded through his hair. “I don’t see a waste.”

“You’re fucking blind then.” Qrow looked down at his shoes.

“I see a man who’s trying so hard to make things work, to make things right.” Qrow glanced back at him for just a moment. He looked apprehensive, scared even. But there was a flicker of hope. So tiny, but there. That was all Clover could ask for right now. That was all he needed.

“I see a man who feels like he has to do it all alone, because he’s so, so scared of hurting anyone willing to get close enough. I see someone who _wants_ to feel like they deserve this. And do you know what?” He cupped Qrow’s cheeks. His freezing, bright pink cheeks. The snow began to fall around them again, silent and cold, but comforting in its own lonely way. But they weren’t alone, not when they stood together. Qrow hung on the edge of every word, so clearly longing to believe what Clover said. Clover smiled, promising that his words were true. “I see someone who deserves to be loved.”

Qrow let out a shaky breath, and he put his own hands over Clover’s as if Clover himself was the only thing holding him together. The snow continued to fall around them, reflecting as white dots in Qrow’s watery eyes. Clover leaned forward, glancing down at Qrow’s lips.

But then Qrow shoved him away and twisted around, before puking straight into a bin that was missing its lid. Clover had to smile sadly, and he held Qrow’s hair as he emptied his insides into the trash. His hair was soft, but he couldn’t really appreciate it just then.

Qrow groaned, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and finally chugging down the last of whatever was in the bottle. Clover grimaced; he’d gone to reach for the bottle but it was empty before he had a chance, and it dropped into the bin with an uncomfortable splat. They stood in silence, accompanied only by Qrow’s ragged breathing. His hand rested on Qrow’s back as he waited for him to speak. But Qrow wouldn’t look back up at him; he just stared down at the disappointment in the trash. “Did you mean that…? Any of that…?”

Clover nodded. “Every word.”

“And you still do?”

“I always have. Always will.”

“You’re crazy, then.” He managed to make it sound affectionate as he squeezed Clover’s hand. “But… thank you.”

Clover smiled again. “The truth is crazy sometimes.”

Qrow only shook his head, and Clover’s smile faltered. What could get through to him? No, that wasn’t the right way of thinking. These issues weren’t something Clover could just wade through in one night, not after it took years for them all to build up, to fester, to ferment in Qrow’s head.

“Come on,” he said; he’d stopped counting how many times he’d said that, “come back to my place for a bit.”

Qrow didn’t fight him this time. He grasped onto Clover’s larger form as they walked, staggering beside him as the world blurred and pulsed at the corners of his eyes. Black would sometimes fall over his gaze like a curtain, and he’d stumble. But every time he did, Clover was there to hold him steady. Some part of his brain found that poetic, but it was lost amid the haze.

A wall of warmth hit Qrow as they walked through the door, and golden light welcomed him in. It reminded him of better memories. Mantle was only filled with blue lights and artificial heat. Dark and vigilant and clinical. But Clover’s home, from what he could actually take in, didn’t feel like that. There was a gentleness to the place that he wouldn’t expect from the General’s go-to soldier. Then again, there were a lot of pleasantries he hadn’t expected from Clover.

Clover helped him down onto the sofa. “Stay there for a sec, okay?” He knew Qrow was going to face-plant the floor if left to his own devices, so Clover leaned him back into the plush leather of the couch.

“Stay here? I’m fucking sinking.” He blinked as he glanced around, his brain trying to figure out what he was actually sitting on. He gripped Clover’s arms, not quite ready to let go.

Clover smiled. “I’ll get you some water. Just try not to move around too much.”

“You got anything stronger?”

“ _No_.”

“Killjoy.”

Clover bit his tongue, and left for the kitchen. He decided to grab a plastic jug too, should the worst come again. As he stood by the sink, filling up a long glass with cold water, he felt a warm weight suddenly lean into his back. “Returning the hug?” He smiled as he felt wisps of Qrow’s hair tickling his jaw. Drunk and sloppy as he was, Clover still hadn’t even heard him wonder into the kitchen. He’d heard the guy was shitfaced when he fought Winter back at Beacon, but he hadn’t believed that part. But that was back when Qrow’s tolerance of booze was substantially higher. Now, Clover could definitely see it.

“Did’ja really mean what you said earlier?” He slurred, his breath not just warm, but hot against clover’s ear. It felt like a dream, and his knees buckled just a touch.

“I told you, I meant every word.” He turned to Qrow and held out the glass of water. “Wash your mouth out. You probably still…”

“Yeah yeah, _mom_.” He rolled his eyes but, for once, did as he was told. Clover stood next to the sink with him as he gargled until the foul taste left the back of his mouth, and once he was done, a quiet moment fell over them. But of course, it was only a moment.

“…Why?” Qrow’s voice broke the silence.

“What do you mean, why?” Clover didn’t want to get impatient with Qrow, knowing it would likely just heighten his walls higher than they already were. But that battling mixture of suspicion and hope was still swirling in his red eyes, and Clover just wanted to make it all okay. The snow that had covered Qrow had melted in the warm air inside, and had started soaking his clothes, clinging to his pale skin. Clover couldn’t help but notice the way his form was framed like that. His legs… _Don’t look at his legs. Don’t look at his legs._ Clover looked at his legs.

“What’ve I done to deserve you, eh?” He slinked an arm around Clover’s broad shoulders, snapping Clover back to the present. “You don’t have to be nice to me jus’ because Jimmy signed you up to babysitting duties.”

“You don’t need _babysitting_.” The self-deprecation was finally starting to rub on him, but that wasn’t the only thing beginning to cloud his mind. He could smell booze, but not just that. He could smell Qrow’s cologne, his sweat. The product in his hair. He didn’t know what exactly Qrow’s scent was, but it brought to mind bonfires, forests, the night sky. If he could bottle that smell and horde it all, horde _Qrow_ all to himself, he would.

When Qrow slumped forward their chests collided, trapping Clover between the literal man of his dreams and the sink. Annoyance and anger had grown in him, found a spot in his heart, and stuck to it. Not anger at Qrow exactly, but at the situation. At whoever or whatever led Qrow to be like this. It had seeded and sprouted from the first moment he heard the huntsman put himself down. But now they were so close, now Clover could _hear_ Qrow’s breath as well as smell it, arousal swirled with the energy building in him. All his dreams were brought to the forefront of his mind. Qrow’s legs. His skin. His scent.

“Well apparently I do,” he scowled, and Clover knew what he was going to say before he said it, “I’m a fucking disaster -!”

“Enough of that already!” He gripped Qrow’s shoulders and held him close. Qrow was so surprised he almost looked sober for a second. “You don’t have to feel like this anymore! Not when you’re with me.” He shook his head. “If I could give you all the luck in the world I would. And it’s not because I’m _babysitting_ you, it’s because you’ve earned it. Alright?”

Qrow didn’t look convinced. He tried to shrug off Clover’s grip, tried to convince himself to be offended instead of flattered. It was what he was used to. “You feel that sorry for me?”

“I don’t feel sorry for you!”

“Then why are you still bothering?!”

“Because I…!” He gazed hopelessly into Qrow’s pained expression. Was _love_ really the word he was looking for? Would it scare Qrow off? Come on too intensely? But he needed to say _something_. “…Because I care so much about you it’s not even funny. And stop asking why. Please.”

Qrow covered Clover’s hands with his own. Oh, that reluctance in his eyes! Why couldn’t Clover just reach in and take it all away? “But…”

“Not buts. No ifs.” He smiled. “When we sit together, or talk together or fight together… it thrills me, Qrow.” He hushed Qrow before he could interject. Once Clover had started, he had to finish. “I thought it was a match made by the gods when you told me about your Semblance, thought it was like a sign. For a while I thought my good luck was to balance out your misfortune, but… maybe it’s the other way round, hm? It’s like… duality, or…””

“What’re you…?” He shook his head, but didn’t pull away. Clover took that as a good sign.

“I didn’t think I was incomplete until we became friends. Now, when we’re apart, it’s…”

Whatever else he wanted to say was lost when Qrow leaned in and kissed him. Clover sighed against his chapped lips and slid his arms around Qrow, finally feeling content for the first time that night.

He tried not to be too eager as Qrow’s lips pressed against his, his tongue rolling blindly over Clover’s mouth as he tried to find his warmth. Clover shut his eyes and parted his lips, but Qrow was messy in his attempts. So Clover led the kiss, holding the back of Qrow’s head and guiding his tongue properly. He tasted of cheap whisky and something else entirely unique to him, and that was the taste Clover chased after, the flavour he dreamed about.

Clover was the first to break away for a breath, reluctant as he was. But Qrow didn’t want to move too far; their noses were still pressed together as his eyes opened lazily to gaze at the man holding him upright. He smiled properly, much to Clover’s relief. He ran his fingers through Qrow’s hair, relishing the moment he was finally able to, hoping he’d remember each of these moments, lock them away in every corner of his mind.

“What now, lucky charm?” Qrow grinned sloppily.

Clover couldn’t, not while Qrow was drunk. He shouldn’t have even kissed him, truth be told. His dreams would have to wait another night. “Bedtime, I think.”

“Gods I was hoping you’d say that.” He leaned forward for another kiss, but Clover pulled away, as much as it pained him to do so. Qrow faltered a little. “What is it?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Yeah we established that.” He was getting impatient, and his hands trailed down to pull at the buttons on Clover’s top.

Clover wrapped his own hands around Qrow’s to stop him, bringing them to his lips and kissing the knuckles. Qrow watched him, enraptured, unused to gentle affection like that. “Tomorrow, Qrow. But not while you’re like this.”

“Don’t you want to…?”

“I do, _Gods_ I’ve wanted to,” he hated the pleading tone that bled into his voice, but he couldn’t bare the idea of anything ripping Qrow down after he’d spent the evening trying to convince him otherwise, “you can’t begin to imagine how badly I want to.”

“Then who cares if I’m drunk?” He leaned into Clover, his wet clothes leaving damp marks on Clover’s shirt, his pants. “It’s never been a problem with anyone else.”

“I’m not anyone else. Now come on.” Qrow still looked distraught, his eyes begging Clover, but he also looked like he was going to pass out, which was enough to remind Clover to stay in line. He kissed Qrow’s knuckles again tenderly. “Tomorrow.”

Clover finally half-dragged Qrow into the bedroom, deciding on the spot to sleep on the sofa that night. He wouldn’t tempt anything. Qrow kept his arms draped loosely around Clover’s shoulders as he peeled away his wet shirt, only moving them so Clover could continue. “Just a little, come on, Cloves.” He whispered against Clover’s neck, grinning at how it made him flutter.

“No.”

“Fucking killjoy.”

“You already called me that, smartypants.”

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Lay back.”

“So it’s a yes?” He looked hopeful.

Clover had never prayed that someone would just pass out with so much passion. “I’m taking your pants off.”

“So definitely a yes.” He grinned, suddenly more than happy to lay back.

“I said no.”

“Oh come on, you’re halfway there.”

“You’re just trying to tempt me, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow at Qrow the same way a teacher would look at a petulant child. For some reason that caused him to burst into raspy, slurred laughter.

“You look like fucking Winter! Why do you look like Winter?!” He flopped back onto the bed, and Clover could only shake his head and chuckle in confusion.

“How do I look like Winter? Is it the sleek uniform? Or the long, luscious eyelashes?”

“It’s in the face! You look like you’re gonna smack my ass and put me in the naughty corner!” He wheezed a little.

_Don’t tempt me._

Eventually he simmered down once Clover had put his pants on the radiator. His eyes followed Clover around the room; he looked content. Clover glanced over Qrow’s body, which was a mistake on his part. His skin was as pale and as smooth-looking as he’d imagined, his legs long like a model’s. Yet he looked strong as well as sleek. He was thin, but athletic. Muscular in all the places Clover liked. And his face was so relaxed, so welcoming. He felt like he was being lured into Qrow. He swallowed hard.

“Well… I’ll leave you to it.” He tried to turn before his resolve was broken by the disappointment in Qrow’s face. He wasn’t fast enough.

“You’re not staying?” He sat up a bit.

“Not with you trying to seduce me, I’m not.” He managed a smile, but only a weak one.

“Don’t leave me alone.” _Gods_ , he sounded so vulnerable. Clover bit his inner cheek.

“…Do you promise to keep your hands to yourself?” He stepped forward and stood by the end of the bed. Qrow nodded heartily, and finally Clover sighed and climbed into the other side of the bed.

_Well, that took a lot of convincing._ He grumbled a little as he pulled the covers over them both.

Whatever Qrow had agreed to had instantly left his head once Clover settled; he nuzzled into Clover’s form like he fit perfectly, slinging an arm around his chest. Clover couldn’t find it in himself to make a comment, he enjoyed Qrow’s closeness way too much. So instead, he put his arms around Qrow, smiling as he shifted closer, basking in the little affections. He stroked Qrow’s fluffy hair, and smiled to himself.

“Tomorrow.” He promised.


	2. Chapter 2

Qrow had honestly forgotten what a hangover felt like, much less how it tasted.

The back of his mouth was so dry it felt crisp, a familiar and terrible flavour holding firm. When he rolled onto his back the room spun, and he let out a long-suffering groan. Was his head cracked open? No, it must be a migraine. But when he ran a hand through his hair, he winced. There was a cut, or at least a scab now. And a big one, bruised skin spreading from it that burned when he touched it. How the fuck had he got that?

Qrow had grown accustomed to waking up with bruises and aches, especially after work, but that was when he actually knew where the wounds came from. When he woke to mystery marks after a binge, dread always filled his stomach. What had he done? Who was it from? What had _he_ done to _them_ in return?

Sitting up was a mistake. What little was in his stomach decided it had to evacuate, and he lunged for the first thing to his right – a plastic jug on the nightstand. Had that not been there Qrow would have left a nasty stain on the carpet. He choked up acid that burned his throat, and kept himself hunched over to at least try and prevent anything worse.

Slowly, as he tried to level his breathing, he began to remember fragments of last night. And a tiny bit of the night before that. He remembered clubs, he remembered the streets of Mantle. The cold digging into his skin, clinging to him with a vengeance, his punishment for being outside to start with. He remembered music, loud and pulsating, and he remembered the solemn quiet of dodgy bars. Then he remembered warmth.

He remembered Clover.

Qrow looked around then. There were photos on the wall, smiling faces. There were badges, certificates that were printed out from their digitized counterparts. A mini hologram on the nightstand of a four-leaved plant.

“This isn’t my room…” He muttered.

“Nope, it’s mine.”

Qrow looked up as Clover left the bathroom, wrapping a dressing gown around his body. He looked heavenly. Yellow light flooded through the tuft of longer hair at the front of his head, darkened wet locks that shone with flecks of gold as the light hit it. His skin had a luster, steam rolling off his shoulders from the heat of the water. Everything about him radiated warmth. Qrow swallowed.

“Morning.”

“Good afternoon.” Clover smiled.

Qrow groaned, putting the jug to one side. “Did we…?”

“No. Wanted to, but no.”

“We kissed… right?” He looked up at Clover, trying not to look hopeful. He remembered how Clover tasted then. Something fresh, like cut grass, but warming, comforting. The way he kissed Qrow’s hands... He tried to stop the pink from blooming in his cheeks.

It was then that Qrow realized he was in his underwear and socks. And that was it. He looked away from Clover. He… undressed him. They _cuddled_.

Clover nodded, smiling again as he stepped forward. “I enjoyed kissing you – even if you were drunk. We should try it some other time, maybe when you’re sober.”

He knew Clover was just trying to make him laugh. It wasn’t working. He looked around for his scroll, until Clover took it off a shelf and handed it to him. There was a crack in the plastic down the handle which wasn’t there before, but it was still criss-crossed with scuff marks and scratches from over the years. It was an older model, but Qrow never felt the need to replace it. It still checked his Aura properly, still called people, so what was the point in wasting money?

Speaking of calls, he had about 50 missed ones, and an embarrassing number of texts. Ruby and Yang mostly, as well as a few from the other kids. So many voicemails. He grimaced.

“I’ll… I’ll go get you some water.” Clover left him for a minute.

Alone now, Qrow’s finger hovered over the Call button, and there it stayed, never actually going through with the action. He just couldn’t talk to them, not yet. He’d let them down like usual. What else did he have to say? How many times could ‘sorry’ still be used without losing its meaning? They couldn’t forgive him for doing the same stupid shit he always ended up doing over the years. He didn’t deserve it, anyway.

He listened to a few of the voicemails, holding them to his ear; he didn’t want Clover to hear them. The first few were from Ruby.

**“Hey Uncle Qrow~! You coming home soon? We were thinking of going out some place to eat! There’s this really cool pizza place Harriet told me about today so can we please please go? It’s Ruby by the way - call me back!”**

**“Hey Uncle Qrow, Ruby again. Um… call us back soon, alright?! It’s getting late, even for you! We already got something to eat, but there’s still stuff left over! Okay, bye!”**

**“Uncle Qrow, where are you? Yang says you’re not picking up your scroll. Are you okay? Oh, it’s Ruby, again, by the way. Call me when you get this.”**

Qrow grimaced. If Ruby was going to be upset, Yang was going to be royally pissed. He decided to scroll past the next few (that were from her, specifically), until Ruby’s name came up again.

 **“Uncle Qrow where _are_ you? Did you… go to a bar?” **Her voice became a whisper. **“Please tell me you didn’t. You’ve been doing so well. Please pick up.”**

 **“…You went out drinking, didn’t you? I’ll… see you when you come home. Just please be safe.”** Gods, she sounded so disappointed. She had every damn right to be. He almost wanted her to be angry; she had all the right to that as well.

And finally, received about an hour after Ruby’s last one, came a single voicemail from Yang. The log said it was only about 5 seconds long.

**“YOU MADE RUBY CRY! SHE’S CRYING! GOD DAMN IT, QROW!”**

Her voice sent his head pounding, and Qrow chucked the scroll to the side and covered his head with his hands. Well… that was several weeks of hard work down the drain. He was dreading going back, having to no longer just face the girls but now the rest of the kids, the team. He was pathetic. And he thought he could _protect_ them?

“Hey.” Clover stood in the doorway, watching Qrow. His voice was gentle in a way Qrow wasn’t expecting. “It’ll be alright.”

“And you know this…how?” Qrow looked up at Clover in resignation.

Clover shrugged. “It usually is.” He crossed the room to lean by the bed, by Qrow’s side. He handed him a bottle of water, which he gladly drank down. “We’re not back at square one. It’s just…”

“Wait, _we_? I’m the one with the problem.” He furrowed his eyebrows, watching Clover. But Clover only smiled. Why was he being so _nice_?

“You don’t have to do it alone.”

“I do better on my own.”

“And you know this how?” Clover sat by Qrow, jogging him by mistake until he felt like he wanted to puke again. “I won’t let you do this alone.”

Qrow’s first reaction was indignation. “I don’t _need_ anyone to hold my hand through this shitshow.”

“Maybe not, but it makes things a lot easier.”

Qrow shook his head. “You’re too optimistic… You’ve got the wrong idea about me.” He looked away from Clover, fighting the urge to lean on him like he desperately wanted to. “All I’ve done is cause you a hassle. I wouldn’t be shocked if I end up getting you killed one of these days.”

Clover put his hand over Qrow’s, making him jump a little. He looked… firm. Authoritative, even. And yet there was still that gentleness in those light green eyes that just kept tempting Qrow into believing everything was going to be alright. “I know this is going to be hard. Not just… what we’re up against, but… helping you on the right path.”

“Then why -?”

“I’m not finished.” Clover squeezed Qrow’s hand, taking the lead of the conversation. “You relapsed. Relapses happen. It might happen again. And if it does… I’ll be there.”

Qrow faltered for a moment, before reluctantly pulling his hand away from Clover’s. He shouldn’t have let Clover get this close, shouldn’t have led him on. If he’d just been an asshole from the start, he wouldn’t be putting Clover into a situation like this. “I’ve let everyone down. Not just the girls. But… all the kids. The team. Everyone puts all their faith in me and I fuck it up every damn time.”

“Qrow…”

“ _Every_ time!” He looked back at Clover trying desperately to get him to see what a mistake he was making. There was a watery sting in his eyes, but he clenched his teeth and pushed it down, like most other things. “I’ve tried in the past. I’ve tried for them. I promise and promise and get their hopes up. And then…” he shut his eyes, not wanting to see Clover, not wanting to see anything, “…everything just starts to build up, it’s like I’m being crushed every day just a little more.” Clover put an arm around him, and this time Qrow didn’t push back. He just needed someone to hold him then. _Pathetic_. “And there’s no other way for it to ease up. I don’t know any other way for it to stop.”

“You just need… some other way to get it all out of your system.” He pulled Qrow over, letting him lean on his strong, broad shoulders. If he needed to carry them both through this, he would.

“Believe me, I’ve tried finding distractions. Tried throwing myself into hunting, into teaching. Into anything.” He sighed as he breathed in Clover’s smell. He was unbelievably warm. So huggable it probably shouldn’t be allowed. He felt so sick, not just from the hangover but from all of it. But Clover gave him some comfort, he took the edge off the despair.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have me then.” He smiled, and Qrow gazed up at him.

“You really want me? After all this…?”

“I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t.” He stroked Qrow’s cheek. “Please believe me when I say I want you. I meant every word I said last night. I _always_ will want you.”

Clover always seemed to know what to say to take his breath away. Qrow let himself relax against him, feeling the tiniest flicker of something in the cavity of his chest. “You said you cared about me.”

Clover nodded. “I need you, Qrow.”

His eyes widened at that. That felt new… it had been a while since he’d felt needed. “All I can offer you is misery.”

Clover scoffed. “Then maybe I’m a masochist. Or maybe you’re wrong,” he planted a tender kiss on the corner of Qrow’s mouth, “because all I recall you bringing me is happiness.”

“…You could have anyone else, the offer of literally anyone else is open…” a wry smile appeared on Qrow’s face as, for once, he finally gave himself the luxury of at least considering something better than what he believed he was worth, “…before I snatch you away for good.”

“I’m already sold.” He kissed Qrow’s lips so gently it was enough to make him melt. Qrow hated soppiness like this with a vigorous passion. But it was given so genuinely from Clover, so sincere and sweet. It felt wasted on him, but he savoured every moment, let himself soak up Clover’s kindness.

“You’re kind,” Clover whispered between chaste kisses across his face, wrapping his arms around Qrow, “and you’re handsome, and you’re smart, and funny…”

“ _You_ should be the one getting a shower of compliments,” Qrow finally replied.

“Hey…”

“I’m not _deflecting_ , before you start that again.” He smirked indignantly at Clover’s frown. Qrow leaned in for a proper kiss at last, only for Clover to put a finger to his lips.

“Go have a shower.”

“Is that an order, soldier boy?”

“Do you want it to be?” Clover grinned.

Qrow groaned, resting his head on Clover’s shoulder. “I remember you promising me something last night…”

“And I remember you throwing up into that jug about 5 minutes ago.” He retorted. Qrow couldn’t really argue with that one. “How do you feel, by the way?”

“Like shit. But not as bad as earlier.”

“Well, that’s a step in the right direction!” Clover beamed again, before getting up and kissing the top of Qrow’s head. Qrow couldn’t remember the last time anyone had actually done that, and the revelation sent a reminder of what he was crashing down over him in waves.

But now, Clover seemed to cut through it just a little. He at least had a bit of a point… whenever they were together, Clover’s good luck had a habit of dancing with Qrow’s misfortune, leveling the playing field, making things more of a fair game. But Qrow still couldn’t stop thinking that he was still a hindrance to him. Maybe he wouldn’t bring bad luck to Clover, but his presence would leave Clover’s Semblance useless.

“Go on, bathroom’s through there. I don’t mind you using my stuff, so don’t be shy.” He pointed and went to leave the bedroom.

“Hey, wait – where are my clothes?” He glanced around the bed.

“Oh, I washed them. Don’t worry, they’re dry as a bone by now.” He smiled with the same casual light of a sun gleaming through rain clouds. Qrow went pink and hoped Clover didn’t notice. He did.


	3. Chapter 3

Qrow washed away the smell of last night, the dirt and sweat and whatever else he’d dragged himself through, but he couldn’t wash away the dread that had started to loom over him.

He knew he was going to have to face Yang and Ruby soon. He knew he’d have to talk to the other kids. He knew _motherfucking_ James would find out, and Winter and everyone on Clover’s team. But he tried to cling to that dread, because even thinking for a moment about the battles ahead, Tyrian and the Maidens and Salem…

It made him want a drink.

Clover had folded Qrow’s clothes and left them by the bed. The jug was gone, too. He had to smile at that. If Salem came to kill them all in horrible, grueling ways, at least he couldn’t blame himself for that - entirely.

The sun had already started setting by the time he was done dressing, though it wasn’t due to slowness on his part. They were deep into wintertime, so what little daylight they’d gotten that day had been wasted while Qrow was sleeping. He wondered what Clover had gotten up to while he was passed out. Had he been tiptoeing around the house to not wake him? Had he spoken to any of the kids? How long had they been curled up together like a lovey-dovey couple…?

He sighed to himself happily. That was one good thing to come out of this shitshow. He was still thinking about it as he wondered into the living room, so he didn’t notice that anyone else besides Clover was in there.

“We got a little visit – ahk!” Clover jumped back as Ruby flung herself onto Qrow, wrapping her arms around his middle.

She said nothing at first, just insisted on hugging her uncle. Shock hit him first, and then guilt burned through Qrow’s bloodstream like poison. Slowly, he hugged her back, although he didn’t feel worthy of it.

“Where were you?” Her voice finally came.

“…I don’t remember, exactly.” He admitted, stroking her hair. “Ruby, I…”

“What if Tyrian was somewhere? What if Salem’s people found you?!” She looked up at him with big shiny eyes, and he had no response.

“That’s why you called Clover, right? In case anything had gone south?” He almost managed a smile but couldn’t quite make it. “Smart.”

Ruby finally pulled back, trying to hide her sniffle. “You were doing good, Uncle Qrow.”

That hit him like a ton of bricks, and he ran his hand through his damp hair. “I know.”

“Then why did you have to go out? Why couldn’t you just talk to one of us?!” She stared at him, desperation bordering on justified anger. Clover leaned back for a bit, leaving them to it.

“You’re still _kids_ , that’s why.” He shook his head. He wasn’t their responsibility. His stupid problems weren’t theirs to carry.

“Is that all you think of us? After all of this?! Everything we’ve gone through together and you just see us as a bunch of kids?!”

“Yes! Because that’s what you are, Ruby!” He snapped at her. “You’re a child! You all are! You shouldn’t be off fighting monsters and sneaking into the military and -!”

“Well we’re already doing that!” She bit back, tears welling up in her eyes. Not out of sadness but frustration. “We’re not students anymore, Uncle Qrow! We _earned_ our badges!”

Qrow scoffed.

Ruby blinked, before she narrowed her eyes. “Oh, is that funny? Do you not think we’ve worked hard enough yet?!”

“None of this should be happening to you!” He stared down at his niece, but a part of him did notice that she’d gotten taller, stronger. Still a pipsqueak, but not for much longer. “You should all still be back at Beacon -!”

“BEACON ACADEMY IS GONE!”

They went silent.

Qrow sat on the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t understand, Ruby…”

She sighed. “I do, Uncle Qrow. I really, really understand.” She wiped her eyes briefly and sat by her uncle. “I know you just wanna protect us – all of us. But you don’t have to do that anymore. We’re _stronger_ now.”

Qrow looked back at his niece. Yes, she was taller and stronger and clearly smarter, but when he looked at her round face and defiant expression, he still saw the tiny girl he’d watched grow up, helped to raise. The little girl who had to be told that broccoli was just tiny trees so she’d eat them, the girl who used to call him “Uncle Kwoe” because she couldn’t pronounce her R’s for so long.

He saw the same when he looked at Yang, and he was so certain there were so many memories and vulnerabilities the others had. This was supposed to be _his_ job. Ozpin’s job, James’ job. The whole damn point was to keep the _kids_ safe. And now the kids were at the forefront of the biggest battle imaginable.

“This isn’t fair on you, on any of you.” He finally responded.

“I know, but that won’t change what’s going on, or what’s going to happen.” She put her hand over Qrow’s, her fingers still so delicate and thin over his. Dainty. “We’ve come this far already, and we’re not turning back. We can’t. We’re going to fight, and we’re going to win.”

Qrow wanted to believe that. “I just… I have to keep you safe. You’re…”

“You and Dad are the only family me and Yang have, Uncle Qrow.” She smiled sadly, sharing the same opinion he had. “I know you wanna protect us, but you don’t have to anymore. You don’t have to be all by yourself anymore.” She hugged him again, her arms going around his neck.

He chuckled ever so softly, and ruffled her choppy hair. “When did you get all grown-up, eh?”

“We all grew up. You can stop worrying.” She repeated quietly.

“I’m your uncle, pipsqueak, I’m going to worry about you and Yang until I’m on my death bed.”

She smiled and pulled back, but there was still a pleading look in her eyes. “But don’t worry yourself into an early grave. You really were doing so well.”

And that brought it all back to the forefront of Qrow’s head. He didn’t want to give her another promise he might break eventually or give her a useless apology. But he didn’t know what else to say, so he just looked away shamefully.

“Hey, we’re all a big team,” she smiled, “we all look out of each other.”

“You don’t need to look out for me…” He said like it was a reflex.

“But…”

Clover finally interjected, putting a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “That’s because he’s got me to look out for him.” He smiled. Qrow looked up at him, ashamed to admit he might have forgotten Clover was there for a moment.

Ruby tilted her head as she looked up at Clover. “Are you making your own team together?”

Qrow glanced up at Clover’s face. Were they… official? He hadn’t even thought to bring it up. What were they, exactly? Would they tell anyone? Did Clover want this to be serious, or…? He looked back at Ruby, who was waiting for an answer from either of them.

“The thing is…” Qrow started, delicately.

“Me and your uncle are in a loving relationship together.” Clover smiled at Ruby proudly.

“…” Qrow’s head slowly turned up towards Clover, absolutely mortified. His pale skin turned several shades of pink. How was he supposed to respond to that?!

“Oh. _Oh_.” Ruby grinned, mischief sparkling in her eyes as she crossed her arms.

“I’m - ! It’s not - !” Qrow looked between Clover and Ruby. He couldn’t remember being this embarrassed in years.

“I knew it! I knew it!” She jumped up off the sofa with a triumphant leap. “Did you confess your love just today? Or have you been _secret lovers_ since we first landed in Mantle?!”

“Gods, end my suffering.” He covered his head with his hands. Was this his Semblance or was he cursed beyond that?

Clover only laughed. “No of course not, it was only last night that we – “

“Don’t _TELL HER_! Great, you made it sound worse!”

Ruby’s smile stretched further, and she clenched her hands. “Ah Uncle Qrow’s in love! I’m telling Yang!”

“Wait -! Just – both of you shut up!” He stood up, completely flustered. Ruby giggled, and Clover seemed just as happy. He put an arm around Qrow, who glared at him with such fury it could have burned holes through the taller man.

He shook his head. “Last I checked, Yang was ready to punch me into next year.”

“She… Yeah.” Ruby calmed a little. “Blake might also want to back her up on that. Weiss… isn’t so eager to rip your head off, though, so take some comfort in that.”

Qrow looked over at Ruby, and he frowned. “I made you cry.”

She looked shocked at that, before looking away sadly. “She said she wouldn’t tell anyone...”

Qrow left Clover’s arms to hug his niece once again. He couldn’t afford to do this again, no matter how bad it got.

“I forgive you.” She said.

“I… I haven’t even said sorry yet.” He frowned.

“No, but I know you are. Otherwise you would have come home by now.” She shut her eyes. “You’re embarrassed.”

Qrow sighed as she pulled away from him. He didn’t like how grown-up she’d gotten. “You shouldn’t be so quick to forgive people, kiddo.”

“I know. Only with you – because we’re family.” She smiled once again. Qrow smiled back; she’d never looked more like Summer. “Well… come back when you’re ready.” She suddenly shot Clover a glare with force unbefitting for someone her size. “And you – I want to see a ring when he comes back. And not one of his usual rings – I know what his rings look like!”

“Uh…” Clover glanced at Qrow for help. Qrow crossed his arms and left to him to writhe.

“That’s what you get for telling.” He chuckled.

“I REQUIRE MARRIAGE!” Ruby burst out of the front door, and they watched her run down the street outside, pulling up her hood as snow fell from above.

“…Well, she’s rambunctious.” Clover commented.

“WHY DID YOU TELL HER THAT?!” Qrow shook Clover with a desperate fury, fuelled by Clover’s light laughter.

“She would have found out eventually – it sounds like she already knew something was up.”

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SAY ANYTHING!”

“Come on, Qrow,” he put his hands over Qrow’s, “you must have noticed by now. The kids know.”

“How?!”

“You… really haven’t noticed?” Clover chuckled, taking Qrow’s hands and kissing them. “Gods, you’re adorable.”

“I’m….?!” His brain cut out for a solid second.

“You’re bright red,” he gazed at Qrow, who finally grumbled and pulled away. He turned from Clover, half-expecting Yang to burst through the door and punch him in the face.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I love you too.” He wrapped his arms around Qrow from behind, before it clicked. That was the first time he’d said that. He felt Qrow tense a little in his embrace, and he quietened. Was it too early to say…?

He decided he didn’t care. “…I love you, Qrow.”

Qrow put his hands over Clover’s, but didn’t say anything. A bout of unsure quietness hung over them both.

“Qrow?”

Qrow turned to Clover. He looked… apprehensive. Guilty.

“Do you… love me too?” He tried to not look upset, or hurt, or like his entire world hinged on what Qrow was going to say next.

“…I… I’ve never loved anyone before. Not like this.”

Clover blinked in surprise. “You’ve never been in love?”

“I’ve never let anyone get that close.” He shrugged nonchalantly. He tensed again just a touch when Clover kissed him suddenly, but soon he melted into it. Clover sighed softly as he felt Qrow wrap his arms around him, and he wanted to chase away that hesitance. When words escaped him, he wanted to kiss away Qrow’s fears until he believed again, until that spark of hope lit up in his red eyes once more.

“Your whole life?” He asked again quietly.

“I couldn’t inflict this on anyone else.” He replied despondently. “I can’t… nobody deserves to get hurt because of me. You don’t…” He pulled away from Clover. “I should go.”

“Wait – Qrow,” he managed to grab his wrist before he got too far, panic bubbling in Clover’s chest.

“Thank you for all this, Clover. But I can’t…” He glanced back at Clover, eyes pleading for him to just let go. “I can’t risk hurting you. You’re too good.”

“You won’t hurt me. I know you won’t.” He said firmly.

“How?!” He shook his head, grimacing like it physically hurt him. “If I’m not an active threat to you, I’m a burden. That all I’ve ever been to anyone!”

“That’s not true.” Clover put his hand over Qrow’s, fingers running over his rings. “I don’t care how many times I have to remind you, I’ll tell you every single day. You’re not a burden.” He stroked Qrow’s cheek, warm against his hand.

Qrow gazed back at Clover with a pained expression. “Why are you willing to put so much effort into me? I can’t give you back anything good.”

“You give me everything back, Qrow,” he pressed his forehead tenderly against Qrow’s, cupping his pale face. “I love you. I’ll tell you I love you every day, and I’ll stay with you every day, whenever you need me.”

“ _Why_?” He leaned into Clover, gripping his wrists. He was so tired of being alone and drunk and in pain. He wanted Clover so much, but… he was scared he wasn’t worthy of him. Scared that eventually, like everyone else, he’d end up hurting him.

But Clover only smiled, so kind and open to him and Qrow couldn’t help but finally linger close into this unknown world he’d always had to watch from afar. Love was something that happened to other people, not him. And yet, here Clover was.

“Because you deserve it.” Clover whispered; his voice was so certain Qrow almost believed it too. Clover kissed him, gentle and caring as ever, and Qrow let himself lean into it, deciding properly to trust Clover’s belief, to forget everything else. He felt safe in Clover’s arms, a luxury so rare to him he couldn’t remember how it felt until he was wrapped up in Clover. Only Clover.

Qrow made to push away, to catch his breath, but Clover pulled him close, kept him captured in the kiss. Passion replaced the gentle, and Clover found himself pressing into Qrow with a new urgency.

“Cloves,” Qrow gasped softly. He could feel Clover’s body so firm against his, strong and reassuring. He didn’t know when he got trapped between Clover and the wall, but he happily would have stayed there if he got to keep Clover’s attention on him like this.

Clover ran his fingers through Qrow’s hair, keen to explore more. But he had to keep himself in line, for Qrow’s sake. Qrow wasn’t _delicate_ by any sense of the word, he knew that, but he didn’t want this to be rough. He wanted to show Qrow love in ways that words were starting to fail them both. He could only say he deserved this so many times… he had to act on it, like he’d been so desperate to for so long.

“Tell me you want this.” Clover breathed against Qrow’s lips as he felt Qrow’s arms fall over his shoulders.

“I’m starting to like you giving me orders, soldier boy.” He smirked.

“I want to hear it.” _I need to hear you say it. I need to know you’ve been aching for this like I have._

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Would I be here if I wasn’t…?”

“Qrow.”

Qrow narrowed his eyes, before relenting and leaning close to his new lover’s ear, revelling in how it made him shiver, “I want it. I want you, Clover.”

Clover used his foot to nudge Qrow’s legs further apart, used his own body to fill the space. He couldn’t help but smirk at the way Qrow gasped a little at the way their bodies fit together. He took to kissing at his jawline, stubble scratching at his lips, but Clover found he liked the sensation. He travelled lower to the dip in his neck, and he swore Qrow _moaned_.

His hands made their way down to Qrow’s bony hips as he stayed kissing that little sweet place on his lover’s neck, and Qrow more than willingly tilted his head back, letting Clover get closer to him. Clover relished in the warmth they shared, the realisation of his dreams. He wanted to savour every moment of it.

“Pick up the pace a little,” Qrow prodded.

“Patience is a virtue.” Clover gripped his lover’s hips.

“But I want you _now_ ,” he growled and hooked his leg over Clover’s thigh with a sense of need to it that Clover just adored, “ain’t that what you want to hear? That I _want_ you to fuck me like we’re in heat?”

“You have a way with words…” He breathed a shaky breath.

“You learn a few things the older you get.” He chuckled.

“You’re not that much older than me.” Clover raised an eyebrow and pulled back to look at Qrow.

“Come on, it’s like I got a boy toy – not that I’m complaining.” He smirked again, a sweet pink flushed through his alabaster skin.

Clover shook his head; he was barely younger by 5 years, but he put the comment aside. “I want to take my time with you. I want to know every inch of you – I’d do this all night if I could.”

The pink deepened in Qrow’s cheeks and he fought the urge to look away. “Well… could you _take your time with me_ on the bed maybe? Or at least on the sofa…?”

A trail of clothes followed them to Clover’s bed, leaving Qrow like he was last night; spread out over Clover’s bed in just his boxers. Though this time, to his delight, Clover could properly join him in this. He welcomed Clover with open arms (and legs) and let his lover weigh him down into the mattress. Again, Clover dove in for that newly discovered sweet spot, nibbling on his skin with an eagerness Qrow happily fed with his own.

When Qrow lifted his hips into Clover’s, he felt his lover buckle, and he took advantage of that. He wrapped a leg around Clover’s lower back to pull him closer, their crotches rubbing against each other with a wonderful friction that left Qrow seeing stars (and god he hoped it had the same effect on Clover).

“You feel big,” he gasped into Clover’s ear, breathless and raspy.

“Lucky you.” He grinned and held Qrow by his hips, rubbing into him so perfectly.

Qrow let his legs part further, his entire body alert and ready. Was he being too eager? He didn’t care, he just needed Clover to stay with him like this, pinning him down into the mattress.

“You’re tense… are you nervous?”

“I’m not tense, I’m… excited.” Qrow pressed his cheek into the pillow.

“Excited?” He smirked, his hand sliding down to cup Qrow’s bulge. He loved how Qrow gasped, lifted his hips into Clover’s hand like he was handing himself over on a platter. “I see what you mean.”

“Cocky bastard.” Qrow grumbled, though the breathless tint in his voice softened any sharpness he wanted. Truthfully, he was aching for Clover to do something, anything. Anything more than what he was doing. It had been too long since he’d done this – he’d either been too busy with missions or too… reluctant. Unwilling to risk letting people get close, even to the point of avoiding one-night stands. But now Clover was here, so beautiful and so fearless. He wanted to keep him here forever. Fuck Salem and fuck Atlas and everything that could threaten to keep them apart.

But any stray thoughts started to drain away as Clover palmed his confined cock, squeezing him and caressing him like he was the most important thing in the world. He’d never been treated like that… he wanted more.

He let out a soft moan, running his hands down Clover’s spine. He kissed Qrow again and again, smothering him, his lips shifting lower and lower until he was nibbling playfully at Qrow’s neck, his collarbone.

“Let me help you relax, love.” Lower and lower Clover moved down, exploring each inch of fair skin, placing tender kisses over each blemish and scar, appreciating his harsh edges, his abs. A trail of sweet purple love bites ran down Qrow’s front, marking him as Clover’s. By the time Clover was at his hips, Qrow’s breath came in short gasps, and he’d covered his face with his hands.

Any desire Clover had to be rougher, faster, had started to wane the more he got to see this new side of Qrow. The shyness that lingered on the coy. The way his body moved with each glance of attention, desperate for the next before the first was even done. He slung one long leg over his shoulder and watched closely as he kissed Qrow’s bulge.

The noise that slipped from Qrow’s mouth was divine. Gruff and breathless already, after so little. He continued, urged on by the encouragement. Qrow’s other leg eventually found its way over Clover’s shoulder, and he focused on licking and kissing and sucking on Qrow until there was a wet patch covering the front of his underwear. He looked up at the state he’d gotten Qrow in – panting and sweating and clutching his hair – and licked his lips at a job well done.

_Not done yet._

“Move your legs, I’m taking your boxers off.” Clover went to sit up, encouraging Qrow to move.

“About fucking time.” He gasped, but Clover only smiled as he always did. He slid Qrow’s underwear down his sweaty legs, freeing his cock at long last. But Qrow covered his face with his hands once again.

“Let me see you, love.” Clover coaxed gently.

Qrow groaned; he was already completely exposed; he needed some way to combat the butterflies in his stomach. He hated this, he felt like a teenager. But Clover was able to see him completely for the first time… what if he didn’t like what he saw?

“You don’t need to be shy.”

“Fuck you.”

Clover chuckled, gripping Qrow’s cock and rolling his thumb over the sensitive slit. When Qrow let out his loudest moan so far, Clover did it again. He watched Qrow’s hips wriggle as he started working up a steady rhythm, and he leaned forward to kiss Qrow’s chest. He only stopped when he felt his lover’s pale thighs squishing him urgently, warning him off.

“Overwhelming?” He asked softly.

“A little…” Qrow finally showed his face, instead stroking Clover’s short hair. His lips were parted, his cheeks bright pink, his eyes half-closed. _Beautiful_.

“You’re gorgeous, Qrow,” he moved up to kiss Qrow again, “I’m going to tell you that more often.”

“You’re spoiling me, soldier boy.” He whispered, smiling.

“I’m pampering you, _gorgeous_.”

“Whatever you’re doing, get on with it.”

“Are you being bossy, or needy?” He reached over to his nightstand for his lube. But he nearly buckled when Qrow reached between Clover’s legs and squeezed.

“I’m being both.” He whispered, nibbling on Clover’s jawline. He slid his hand into Clover’s boxers to feel him properly, moaning softly against his lover’s ear. Clover melted into his touch, leaning into Qrow as he stroked him so determinedly. He had to grip the metal headboard just to keep himself steady as Qrow pulled down his boxers.

“Holy shit, Cloves,” he breathed in as he got a proper look at Clover’s aching cock, “you’re gonna split me in two with that thing.”

Clover smirked, kissing Qrow’s neck as he finally got what he was looking for. He dangled the bottle in front of Qrow. “That’s what this is for.”

“You might need the whole fucking bottle.”

Clover laughed softly, kissing Qrow as he wriggled out of his underwear properly, letting them fall to the side of the bed, and they were both bare together. Qrow kept an arm around Clover’s neck as he finally popped the bottle open, watching closely as Clover poured a generous amount over his fingers. “I’m not just going to rush in,” he spoke softly, breathlessly, “I’ll work you open nice and slow.”

“Good,” Qrow kissed Clover back, “because I’d kick your ass if you didn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to kick anyone’s ass.” He smirked.

“You think so?” Suddenly he gripped Clover with his legs and flipped them around, his face smug as he sat on top of Clover’s lap. But he didn’t even have time to settle before he was pushed onto his back again, his hands pinned above his head and legs forced apart by Clover’s hips.

“I think so.” He kissed Qrow’s cheek.

Qrow grumbled. “Lucky shot.”

“No… if you wanted to top, you’d have fought harder for the position,” he smirked, leaning into Qrow’s body, pressing him into the bed as he watched Qrow bite his bottom lip. He stopped gripping Qrow’s wrists in favour of holding his hands properly. “I think you’d enjoy it a lot more this way.”

Qrow squeezed Clover’s hands but looked away; was he _moping_?

Clover kissed his cheek again as he relaxed his grip, replacing it instead with rolling his hips into Qrow. He let out a sudden gasp as their cocks were pressed together; Clover reached down, his fingers still dripping with lube, and he started stroking them both together. Qrow gripped Clover’s shoulder with his freed hand, raising his hips enthusiastically into his lover’s touch. He honestly hated the sound of himself moaning, but he couldn’t stop himself, didn’t want to when Clover was touching him like this, touching them both so thoroughly. It felt so much better when he thought of how good this was making Clover feel. Precum dripped shamelessly from them both, blending into a growing puddle on Qrow’s stomach. He groaned as a wonderful heat started building up in his abdomen, and looked up when he heard Clover join him, his voice throaty and gruff in the best way. His clear jade eyes were glazed over with lust; his teeth clenched. Qrow could get used to a sight like that.

“Has anyone ever made love to you before?” Clover’s voice caught Qrow off-guard, and he went red.

“R-really? Of course I’ve had sex. I know how to fuck -!”

“I didn’t ask if you knew how to fuck.” His voice came out as an unintentional growl, and it made Qrow’s toes curl in excitement. But then he leaned in close, far closer than before, making Qrow’s head turn into the pillow. His breath was like fire against Qrow’s ear, “I asked if anyone has ever _made love to you_.”

Qrow opened his mouth, and shut it again. The silence was all Clover needed.

“Well… I’ll show you how to make love. I’ll make love to you every single night.” It sounded like a promise; Qrow so desperately hoped it was.

“Every night?” He whispered.

“Every. Single. Night.” His lips were flush against Qrow’s ear, and Qrow lifted his hips into Clover’s again, needing more of that lust, that intimacy. But Clover’s hand didn’t return between their legs. Instead, he kissed Qrow’s neck and sat up, pouring more lube over his fingers.

“C-Clover…” Qrow tried not to sound pleading as he watched his lover’s slow, leisurely movements.

“Relax for me, love.” He whispered reassuringly as he gripped one of Qrow’s thighs, lifting his leg for easy access. Qrow naturally recoiled as he felt Clover’s fingers between his ass, wet and invasive, but Clover was patient with him. Clover kissed his neck, trying to keep his movements gentle, but his own hunger for Qrow was gnawing away at his resolve. He was aching to just drown himself in his lover’s body, to keep him and take him all through the night. But already this was so much better than anyone he’d dreamed of, seeing Qrow so flustered, his legs spread for him and only him. He wondered for a moment who else knew what Qrow looked like on his back, naked and throbbing and so beautiful. He wondered how many people Qrow had seen like this too, if he was rough when he was on top, or if he was gentle and patient. He figured he’d have to find out, sooner rather than later. But tonight, Qrow was his.

When Clover slid his finger in, Qrow arched his back and clamped a hand over his mouth. Any sound was stifled. Clover held his lover’s wrist, but didn’t force his hand away. “Let me hear you. I bet you sound so wonderful.”

Qrow shivered under him, shutting his eyes as he tried to just focus on relaxing himself. He loved the things Clover said, even the soppy crap. When Clover said it, it sounded so believable. His voice alone, breathless and deeper now, sent tingles down Qrow’s spine, and he lifted himself so he was pressed into his lover’s muscular body.

Qrow’s neck was covered in little red and purple marks by the time Clover slid in a second finger. He bit down on his knuckle, trying to channel any noise he needed to release into a groan. “Come on, it’s only you and me. Nobody else can hear you.” Clover whispered, moving his fingers in and out of Qrow’s body. He was hot inside, and tight and wet. He made a scissoring motion with his fingers, stretching him and opening him more and more and finally Qrow couldn’t hide how much he loved it. He pulled his hand away from his face and wrapped his arms tightly around Clover, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Gods, he smelled warm and comforting and everything he wanted.

Clover smiled and let him hide away, listening to the moans that spilled from Qrow’s lips freely. He sounded just as amazing as he’d hoped. Qrow kissed Clover’s neck lovingly, before sinking his teeth into his lover’s tanned skin. Clover let out a groan, unhindered and surprised. “You’re not the only one who can leave a mark.” He smirked, and Clover laughed breathlessly.

“Leave as many as you like. I’ll wear them with pride.”

“You’re such a romantic,” he allowed himself a moan as Clover moved his fingers deeper into him, “won’t your boss get upset? Won’t they clash with your uniform?”

“I don’t want to think about Ironwood right now,” he groaned softly, “I just want to think about you.” Qrow chuckled and continued biting and sucking on Clover’s skin, leaving his own unique trail, mostly because he enjoyed it, but a little part of him found it so satisfying knowing that it would piss James off just seeing them. Clover wasn’t just his soldier now. He was Qrow’s.

He felt more relaxed than ever, so Clover surprised him with a third and final finger. Qrow let out the sweetest gasp, his fingers digging into Clover’s back. “You could have warned me...”

“I could have,” he agreed, “but I didn’t want to.”

Qrow wanted to make a remark, but he could only focus on the way his lover’s fingers felt inside him. The feeling of being stretched and worked open with a level of efficiency it was nearly professional. And yet Clover still made it feel sweet; he wasn’t just preparing him, he was exploring him, learning to understand each and every corner and curve of Qrow’s body. The more Qrow wanted, the more he gave. But in little bits, giving him enough to make him feel so, so good but cutting away at just the right moment to make Qrow seek him out.

Soon Qrow’s body was begging for more than this; his cock was dripping and his fair skin was coated in sweat. He squeezed Clover’s hips with his thighs, urging him on, but he wouldn’t even speed up. He groaned, reaching between his legs before Clover grabbed his wrist with his free hand.

“No.” He said softly.

“Cloves, I’m dying here.” He panted, licking his lips. He gasped as Clover pressed his chest into Qrow’s, his body more sensitive than he’d realised.

“I don’t want you to come yet.” He kissed Qrow’s cheek, but it just wasn’t cutting it.

“You won’t have much say at this rate,” he gazed at Clover, stroking his short hair, “Clover... Please.”

Clover nearly broke at that, and he smiled sympathetically, “I just want to explore you a little more...”

“Ngh, you’ve explored all of me already...!”

“Not all of you, I just want to know where...” he bit his bottom lip, curled his fingers just the right way and – _lucky shot_ – found a little sweet spot buried deep in Qrow. He stroked his fingers over it.

Clover had been looking forward to seeing Qrow’s reaction, but he hadn’t expected him to come on the spot. He widened his eyes as Qrow arched suddenly, his eyes clamping shut as he gripped the back of Clover’s head desperately. The heat of his climax clouded his vision, his thoughts, each nerve lit up so abruptly he couldn’t control it. He cried out, sounding so perfect and a little stunned himself, as creamy white spilled over onto his stomach.

Clover blinked. Perhaps he _had_ gone a little overboard.

Qrow covered his face with his hands, taking in deep shaky breaths, his legs gripping Clover’s hips. “C-Clover...”

“That was... Unexpected.” He smiled.

“I didn’t...” He panted, embarrassment painting his cheeks, “Fuck, I know you said not yet... I... Sorry…”

“No, no no,” Clover leaned down and kissed wherever Qrow’s hands hadn’t covered. “Don’t be sorry. That was beautiful. That was so beautiful.”

Qrow finally pulled his hands away, looking up at Clover. He looked hesitant, unsure, but his head was still swimming. Clover loved his dazed expression; he needed to see it again. 

“Don’t ever say sorry for that. It doesn’t matter what I said.” He kissed Qrow gently, fighting the urge to smother him while he was still trying to get his breathing under control. Qrow moaned against his lips when Clover slid his fingers out, and a hot shiver ran down his spine. “In fact... I’d love to hear you say my name next time I get you off like that.”

“I’ll try to remember.” He smiled breathlessly and wrapped his arms around Clover, nuzzling into him. _He’s so cute like this._ “You’re still uh…” His fingertips trailed down Clover’s abs, leaving goose bumps over his skin.

“Don’t worry about that just yet.” He kissed Qrow’s cheek, wrapping his arms around him.

“But you’re throbbing.” Qrow shifted a little to grab Clover’s length, noting the way he hitched his breath. He stroked his lover, slow and fluid despite the fact that Qrow still felt fuzzy. Clover leaned into him, running his hand through his hair, and Qrow took that as a good sign. They were quiet for a while as Qrow fondled his lover’s cock until he was leaking precum, dribbling over his long fingers like ice cream in the summer. But he made sure to keep it slow, painfully slow. Even as Clover moaned into his ear, igniting his own lust again. Even as his lover’s hips pushed forward against his hand. He was teasing Clover and loving every minute of it.

“Qrow… Come on…” He panted.

“This is what you get for being so slow with me.” He growled a little, but chuckled. He felt Clover’s cock twitch in his hand.

“I was trying to be a gentleman...” He grumbled, stroking Qrow’s hair still.

“You don’t have to be with me.” He dipped down and kissed Clover’s neck.

Clover had to stop himself from frowning. Of course one or two nights weren’t going to fix everything, but… he didn’t think it ran this deep. He moved so he could meet Qrow’s gaze, his eyes firm but affectionate. “I want to be, with you.”

Qrow looked surprised, and opened his mouth to speak. But then he chuckled and leaned back into the bed, wriggling his hips against Clover’s like he was showing off. “Alright then, soldier boy. _Make love_ to me.” He lifted his hand into view, his long fingers drizzled with Clover’s lust, and made a beckoning motion. And when he brought his fingers to his lips, licked one clean, Clover’s brain nearly short-circuited.

Clover kissed him with a newfound affection, a new intensity, and Qrow had to laugh softly against his lips. “You’re a fiend.” He shivered as he tasted himself on Qrow’s tongue.

“Eh, you still love me.”

Clover smiled warmly. “I do. I really do.”

Qrow looked like he wasn’t expecting that answer, so he looked away and smiled to himself.

“I love you, Qrow.” He said it again, taking the opportunity to nibble at his lover’s exposed neck. “You don’t have to say it yet. I know this is all… new to you.”

“…I love you.” It came out as a breath; if Clover wasn’t so close he might not have heard it. But he did, and a huge well of joy burst in his chest. Qrow gazed up at him, apprehensive, but genuine. Clover kissed him deeply, cupping his face, trying to say everything words couldn’t.

“Thank you.” He smiled, reaching down and gripping his lover’s thighs once again. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready since we were in the living room.”

Clover rolled his eyes, but positioned himself and waited for Qrow to wrap his arms around his neck. “Wait should I put a condom on -?”

“Just _do it_ already!” Qrow groaned, holding him tightly.

Clover chuckled, and pressed his tip gently into Qrow, bit by bit. “It’s just the tip…”

“Yeah I can _feel it_ , funnily enough.” He growled in frustration, his head rolling back into the pillow. Clover bit his bottom lip; he really was teasing now.

He was still slow enough, but he had to grip the sheets to stop himself from slamming into Qrow. It was taking Clover more concentration than any mission he could think of, and the way Qrow moaned and pressed himself into Clover’s cock… he could have gladly blown his load into his lover then and there.

“Move, I can take it.” Qrow panted once Clover was buried all the way in him. His body was hot and tight and wet inside, fitting around Clover perfectly, like they were made to be like this.

“You sure?”

“Move or I will!” Qrow snapped at him, but it was an empty threat. Clover liked how bossy he got when he needed it. So he did as he was asked, and slid nearly all the way out until his tip just barely sat inside, before pushing all the way back in at the final moment. A wanton moan erupted from Qrow, and Clover felt his lover’s thighs tremble against his hips. He grinned breathlessly, doing it again and again, pulling out only to plunge all the way back into Qrow. And each time, Qrow lifted himself just a little, making Clover’s cock drag with each move, adding friction to the pleasure.

Clover gripped Qrow’s hips as he began to find their rhythm, their bodies working together. He felt Qrow’s fingers run over the back of his head, trying desperately to grasp at hair that was too short to tug. Clover panted, biting his tongue as he wrapped his arms around Qrow. He needed to keep him close, and Qrow felt the same. He wrapped his legs tightly around Clover’s waist, possessive, eager. Qrow’s voice was rough against his ear, hot and needy and just perfect.

And when Qrow’s body asked, Clover sped up. He thrust into Qrow at a rough angle, and Qrow moaned hoarsely, digging his nails into Clover’s back. Clover groaned at the hot sting, certain he was going to leave with cuts across his back. But he loved it. He loved the desperation that Qrow was no longer ashamed to show. He had to speed up. This entire time he’d been aching, his own cock begging for attention.

Qrow began to moan his name, a symphony of ‘Clover, Clover, _Clover’_ , and Clover couldn’t ignore the call. He gripped Qrow, _his_ Qrow, and grunted with the effort it took to thrust into his lover. He felt Qrow’s thighs trembling against his hips, and began to use what little brain power he had left to angle his movements.

It felt erratic at first, until Qrow realised what Clover was doing. “C-Cloves, don’t,” he pleaded breathlessly, “I’ll come again...!”

“Good,” Clover grunted, “I want you to come again and again and again.” When Clover finally found his sweet spot, Qrow didn’t climax immediately like before, but he cried out and squeezed Clover’s hips with his long legs until Clover was left with bruises. Waves of pleasure he hadn’t felt in years washed over Qrow, unrelenting and all-consuming. He wasn’t going to last long, and judging by the look on Clover’s face, neither was he.

Scratches ran up Clover’s back, some deep enough to draw blood, but the burning only urged him on. He gripped the headboard with one hand until his knuckles turned white. With his other he still held Qrow tightly, enough to smother him. He wanted Qrow to come first, but he was reaching his own limit. Qrow cupped his cheeks, gazing up at him with eyes so loving it took Clover’s breath away. He looked open, completely open down to his soul. Clover let him closer each tentative step he took, welcoming him with love.

But Clover couldn’t hold. He groaned and hunched over, but when he tried to pull out, Qrow clenched his legs around him.

“In me,” he gasped, clutching the back of Clover’s head, “I want it in me.”

Clover gasped breathlessly, half-expecting an alarm to go off and wake him from this beautiful dream. He groaned lowly as he came, spilling deep into Qrow’s body. Still he continued to thrust well through his climax until he was spilling from Qrow, dribbling down his legs.

Qrow arched his back, crying out and gripping Clover tight as he was filled up. His own orgasm rippled through him overwhelmingly, every single nerve in him lit up with a delicious heat. All he could see was Clover, all he could think and feel was Clover. And his name was all Qrow could say as he came.

He gasped softly as Clover flopped onto him; he needed him close. And Clover stayed. Qrow nuzzled into the crook of his neck as Clover stroked his hair, murmuring the sweetest whispers as they both rested. Qrow felt loved. He still wasn’t convinced he deserved it, especially not from someone as wonderful as Clover, but he still felt it. And he basked in that hopeful warmth, that unconditional affection that wrapped him up and kept him close, made him feel safe.

Qrow had nearly fallen asleep when he felt Clover gently pull out and sit up, and he frowned in confusion, in the momentary loss of warmth. “I think a wash off is in order.” Clover smiled.

“Ugh.” Qrow reached out, intending to pull Clover back into bed, only to be scooped up and taken out of bed. “Wha – hey what are you doing?!”

“Relax, gorgeous.” He chuckled as he led the way to the bathroom, Qrow held securely in his arms.

“I could have walked...”

“I know. But I wanted to carry you.” He turned on the taps, still holding Qrow.

“I swear if you pick me up in front of the kids I’ll kick your ass, soldier boy.” He glared up at him.

“You love it.” Clover chuckled. Eventually, they both laid back in the tub, hot water covering them up to their shoulders. Clover hissed as the hot water stung his scratches.

“You alright?” Qrow frowned.

“Yeah, yeah. Just... Enjoying the marks you gave me.” He winked.

Qrow winced. “Sorry, I uh...”

“Don’t say sorry,” Clover wrapped his arms around Qrow and kissed the nape of his neck, quiet and comforting, “I’m looking forward to adding more to the collection.”

Qrow smiled and shut his eyes, enjoying his affection, and for a while everything was okay. But he still couldn’t stop worrying. His smile faded, and he leaned against Clover’s chest.

“It’s alright.” Clover whispered.

“Is it...?” Qrow frowned. “I can’t... I still think you’re making a mistake with me.”

“Well I don’t,” he held Qrow, sighing, “let’s at least give this a try. Hm?”

“Ever the optimist.” Qrow smiled lightly.

“...I know you’re still worried. I know it’s not going to be easy to think about much else. But... I’ll be here.” He kissed Qrow’s shoulder, his lips tracing an old scar. “I’ll be your lucky charm.”

“Could you get any cheesier?” Qrow chuckled and looked back at him.

“Would you like me to try?” Clover smirked.

“Gods, no.” Qrow laughed softly, and leaned back into Clover. He could hear his heart beat, strong and constant. Reassuring. “Lucky…” he scoffed, “knowing my luck, you’ve probably got me pregnant.”

Clover burst out laughing, and shook his head. “You can’t say anything about my humour when you say stuff like that.”

Qrow smiled as he nestled into Clover. “…Thank you.”

“For what? Giving you the best night of your life?” Clover smirked and kissed Qrow’s neck again, comforted by the sound of his breathless laughter.

“Something like that.” He shut his eyes for a while, enjoying the moment. He felt… hopeful. Not much, and it might fade away once the euphoria left him, but it was still hope. He turned a little, placing his hand over Clover’s heart. “I can’t guarantee anything but... I trust you, Clover.”

Clover smiled again, kissing Qrow’s forehead.


	4. Chapter 4

It took a lot longer than usual for Clover to sleep that night. He watched Qrow next to him, his face completely relaxed, bordering on the serene in Clover’s eyes. A slight flush of colour still lingered on his pale cheeks, the last remaining evidence of their time together. He’d looked so much more beautiful than anything Clover could dream of.

Clover laid by Qrow most of the night, watching him, just listening to the way he breathed. The occasional murmur of whatever he was dreaming about. Clover wished he knew how to help him, how to make the pain and fear go away. It must have haunted Qrow for years... It wasn’t going to just go away after a few nights in Clover’s arms. Clover wasn’t _that_ good in bed. Though he still hoped Qrow would take him up on his offer of... Nightly visits. It wouldn’t fix everything but Clover had a feeling it would help. And the thought of having Qrow all to himself every night...

He shook himself before he got hard again, and focused on the issue at hand. Eventually, Clover decided to do what he’d set out to do before. To just be there for Qrow, whether he needed him as a partner, as a lover, or just as a friend. He needed to be patient with him, and with everything else hanging over their shoulders... Clover knew they all needed to stick together in this. He brushed a lock of hair out of Qrow’s face, and finally shut his eyes.

“It’s going to be alright,” he whispered.

* * *

It was still dark outside when Clover woke up. The sky was an intense blue, a strange dark that still managed to fill the room with light. The air was chilly and still, like a single moment held gently in place.

The cold in the air let Clover appreciate the warmth curled around him. Qrow wasn’t usually a deep sleeper, the slightest noise could rouse him. But now he laid still as stone, save for the rising and falling of his chest. His head rested on Clover’s muscular chest, his heartbeat lulling him in his peaceful state. Clover smiled, running his fingers through Qrow’s feathered hair.

He didn’t want to, but eventually Clover managed to pry himself from Qrow, leaving him to lay in just a little longer.

Qrow awoke later that morning, to the smell of breakfast and the sound of... Singing?

He sat up and looked around; his clothes must have still been in the living room from last night.

Last night... He smiled a little. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had anyone, or the last time anyone had him. He was usually drunk when it happened, it was just something he tried to get out of his system and over with. But Clover... Clover was passionate and slow. Qrow had complained but he’d loved it, he just wasn’t used to a lover being so conscious of him, so aware and focused. He wanted Clover’s attention all the time.

“Speaking of which...” he mumbled. Where _was_ his lucky charm?

Clover turned when he saw Qrow finally appear, and grinned. Qrow had helped himself to one of Clover’s shirts, a casual green top. Both the men were strong, but Qrow was much more lithe, and the shirt ended up baggy on him. Clover’s heart nearly missed a beat. He looked cute.

“What’s the smirk for?” Qrow rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“I’m not smirking,” he laughed softly, “You’re wearing my top.”

“I couldn’t find my own...” Qrow trailed off, but Clover noticed the colour blooming in his pale cheeks.

“Is that all? I rarely wear that one.”

Qrow sat by the table, running a hand through his hair. “It smells like you.”

Clover beamed, kissing the top of Qrow’s head. “I made breakfast. Pancakes.”

“Why?”

“Well breakfast usually involves some kind of food.” He chuckled, bringing over a few plates of pancakes and fruit. There were sauces and syrup. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he smiled, looking back at the piles of pancakes, golden and fluffy and picture-perfect. He must have forgone eating for... Days. He was starving. “Can I...?”

“Tuck in, by all means.” Clover put down a mug of hot coffee by Qrow, sitting down by him. They ate together happily, quiet. Content. Morning light flooded through the window, showing off the snowy mountains of Atlas.

“How do you feel, by the way?” Clover laid back into his seat, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “Was I uh... Rough?”

“What? No, no,” Qrow perked up, “you were... Great, actually.” He smiled gently, pushing his plate away.

Clover smiled back, a light flush blooming over his cheeks. He reached over and went to kiss Qrow, but stopped short. Qrow raised an eyebrow, until Clover’s eyes flitted over his face. He licked the corner of Qrow’s mouth, and he froze, going red. “You got syrup on you.” He whispered.

“Cloves, for gods sake,” he pushed Clover away, but he was smiling. Clover laughed softly, watching Qrow.

“So how are you...?”

“You already asked me that.”

“No I mean....” Clover put a hand over Qrow’s.

Qrow was quiet for a minute, before squeezing Clover’s hand.

“I...” Worried. Guilty. Cautious. Hopeful. “...conflicted.”

Clover tilted his head.

“I still think Yang is going to be pissed beyond belief,” he ran a hand through his hair again, “and I don’t even know how the other kids will be. Or James or your team or...”

“Hey, slow down.” He raised Qrow’s hand and kissed it. “I’ll still be here.”

Qrow smiled weakly. “... I wanna believe I’m worth all this.”

Clover’s smile faltered for a moment, but only a moment, and he kissed each of Qrow’s knuckles. “I know. You will.”

“You sound so certain.”

“I am certain,” he smiled again, and Qrow stroked his cheek. Clover’s eyes flickered away for a moment, and he held a finger to the small metal device in his ear.

“This is Clover.... Yeah.... Hm. On our way.” He stood up and held a hand out to Qrow. “Time to get dressed, Ironwood’s calling.”

Qrow groaned a little, sitting up reluctantly, “time to face the music.”

“I’ll be with you.” He kissed Qrow’s cheek. “Your clothes are on the sofa, by the way.”

Qrow smiled, pulling Clover into a proper kiss. Clover shut his eyes and relaxed against his lover’s lips. “Thank you, Clover.”

“Same time tonight?” He whispered.

Qrow smirked and nodded.

“Lucky me.”


End file.
